


Violet Geraniums

by KorruptBrekker



Series: Brekker's Story Graveyard [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Fluff, M/M, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25063477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorruptBrekker/pseuds/KorruptBrekker
Summary: A handsome, slightly awkward florist works across the street from a clean cut, attractive tattoo artist. Both are pining for each other. Will they ever make a move?Note: This story is discontinued.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Brekker's Story Graveyard [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973869
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	1. Logan

Logan arrived in the shop and headed to the back. He made his way over to the sink, washing the foundation from his arms, revealing his tattoo sleeves. He worked two jobs, one as a librarian, the other as a tattoo artist. He had to look professional for both jobs, so what he ended up doing was slathering foundation on his arms to cover up his sleeves when at the library and then washing it off when he worked at the parlor. The foundation sloughed off his arms, gathering in small pools in the sink. He went once around with a scrubber to clear the metal of the makeup, dried off his arms, and walked out, making his way to his room.

He entered and sighed. It was 19:00, and the sun was beginning to set. He could see it outside his window, the oranges, reds, and pinks perfectly complimenting the blacks and violets of the flower shop across from him. _Wallflower’s Bouquet_ was owned by a quiet man with stunning lavender hair that matched the flowers set up outside his shop. He had a shy demeanor and always seemed more at peace when he made arrangements. He had slim fingers that meticulously put each flower in place, making the arrangement perfect. Needless to say, Logan tended to watch him a lot. He didn’t have a whole lot of customers for him personally. The other artists he’d hired typically got more clients than him, even though he owned the parlor. He wasn’t mad, it just gave him an excuse to watch the shop owner across the street.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Logan sat down at his desk, turning on his drawing tablet and readying his digital pen. “Come in.” He said, turning around in his spinning chair.

An androgynous teenager with a substantial amount of piercings walked through the door and sat in the chair next to Logan.

“As you are aware, we’ll just take this time to plan out the design and then we’ll schedule a date in the near future to actually do your ink.”

The teen nodded and then began to talk. The two discussed designs and Logan, with a few reference pictures provided, began to sketch. They spent the next hour sketching and resketching until the client was happy with the design. Logan shook his hand, scheduled a date for the real session and watched as they made their way out, a clear pep in their step. Logan smiled slightly at that. He didn’t show it much, but he actually really enjoyed making art for other people. And seeing their faces when he finished their piece helped him move forward. It was so easy for him to get stuck in his head, become obsessed with the details, and tattooing helped him stay grounded. Drawing had been a lifesaver for him. For years he’d repressed his emotions, and then, one day, he picked up a pencil and began to draw. That had been when the walls had broken, and he was happy they had. He still didn’t talk about his feelings much, but he felt them, and that was this important part.

Logan, once again, looked over at _Wallflower’s Bouquet_. The owner was currently switching out the arrangements, head bobbing slightly to the music in his clunky headphones. Another rap at the door brought Logan back, and he let his other client in. Most days were like this. He’d arrive at 18:45, clock in at 19:00, and then work until 23:00. He’d then close up shop, and end up arriving home at around 23:20. He’d complete his nightly ritual and go to sleep by 0:00. Then he’d wake up at 9:30, go to the library and work until 16:30. Once his shift was over, he’d spend his hours of downtime at home, then come to the parlor. It certainly was a full schedule, but Logan rather enjoyed it. The beginning of his day was the comforting sound of muted whispers and the shuffling of pages, and the end was the creation of art and the beautiful flower shop(and owner) across the street.

23:00 eventually arrived, and Logan stood, stretching. He smiled, finding the silence in the parlor comforting. He did his daily check, putting things back in their place, then locked up the store. The jangle of keys as Logan locked the door signaled to his body that it was time to start winding down, and the exhaustion from the days work hit. He drove home, and trudged inside, putting on a kettle of tea. He changed into his nightwear and poured himself his tea, settling onto the couch. He pulled out the book he was currently reading and curled up, sipping his tea. He read one chapter, then put his mug in the sink and made his way to bed. He crawled into bed and removed his glasses, placing them on top of his book on his nightstand. He switched out the light, then closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Virgil is introduced.

Virgil hummed along to his music as he tended to his flowers. Each day he woke up early and came into the shop, making sure his plants were doing well. It was the perfect start to his day. He’d wake up, put on his music, and then walk into his shop, letting the smell of pollen and flowers wash over him. He inhaled deeply, taking in the earthy scent as he made his way along, watering each plant individually. There were mechanisms that could water multiple plants at once, but Virgil liked watering them all by hand. He could say he had a hand in taking care of every plant.

After checking up on everything in the greenhouse, Virgil began to make the arrangements for the day. He switched them out daily, both for a nice change of pace and for business. Virgil hadn’t realized how many people bought flowers until he’d opened his shop. It was never insanely busy, most of the orders were done online, but he still had a substantial amount of in person customers. Through this business, Virgil had learned to cope with his social anxiety. Sure, he wouldn’t go up to someone and start a conversation, but now he could actually talk to people. He wouldn’t freeze up anymore and he could hold a conversation without having a panic attack. It also helped that Virgil enjoyed talking about flowers. 

There was a day where he looked up the meaning of a flower just for kicks. It was all downhill from there. Soon enough, Virgil began to identify flowers on his own, and recall what they symbolized. Instead of going to college like his parents had wanted him to, he opened up his business. It began to get traction, because he was one of only two florists in the vicinity, and soon enough the shop became sustainable. He had a few other employees, though he still ran it. The shop, as well as Virgil himself, was still young, and it was his passion. He wasn’t ready to pass it on yet. He would miss it too much.

Virgil pulled out his phone and checked the time. 18:50. Now would be about time that that tattoo artist would be arriving. Sure enough, Virgil looked out the shop window at  _ Inkling Inc _ . The owner of the parlor walked purposefully into the store. He had dark brown hair that he swept back and black, hipster, browline glasses. He was all angles, lean and toned. He wore a black polo shirt and a striped blue necktie, grey slim jeans and brown loafers. His arms were devoid of ink, though Virgil knew better. He always entered his shop with bare arms and came out with full sleeves. Some of the designs that Virgil could pick out were a galaxy on his left bicep and a bushel of purple geraniums on his right forearm. Coincidentally, they happened to be Virgil’s favourite flower. They represented happiness, positivity, and friendship, depending on the intention of the sender. Virgil liked the simplicity of the flower, and looking at it always made him smile. He’d wanted to get a geranium tattoo for a while, but he'd been too nervous to actually schedule an appointment.

Virgil walked into the greenhouse, and stood in the doorway, wondering what arrangements he would make for this evening. A simple arrangement of red and yellow roses would do. He didn’t want to think too hard about the meaning, just something simply and cheery to end his day with. He usually thought hard about the meaning of his displayed arrangements, but today he was just feeling chill, so he didn’t really bother. Along with that, Virgil picked a bouquet of violet geraniums. They had become his signature flower, and he always had them at the front of his shop. Another reason for getting the tattoo. It would forever be a reminder of the dream he'd brought to life.

Virgil closed up shop at 22:00, but always took some time to sit at the front and meditate. The quiet was calming, and the smell of flowers even more so. It helped ground him, and in turn, helped him cope with his anxiety. A good way to end a most likely stressful day. Yes, he loved working at his shop, but there was always that one customer that set his anxiety off. After about 45 minutes of resting with his thoughts, he double checked that everything was securely closed up and left. He looked across the way and saw the owner of  _ Inkling Inc. _ leaving too. They always left at the same time. Maybe Virgil had planned that just a little bit. Virgil couldn’t help that he was smitten, but he also hadn’t worked up the nerve to approach the owner. So he’d just aligned their schedules in hopes that they’d run into each other. So far, not much luck, but maybe soon. That’s what he kept telling himself anyways. But until then, he’d admire from afar, smiling each time he caught a glimpse of the handsome artist.


	3. Logan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan and Virgil meet for the first time.

Logan swayed a bit as he hummed along to the tune in his earbuds, closing up shop. Today had been a chill day, as usual, which meant he had a lot of time to gaze at the flower shop across the street, head lost in the clouds. That never used to happen. He was generally a grounded person. There were definitely instances in which he’d be in his head more than what would be deemed the norm, but for the most part, he was grounded. But ever since  _ Wallflower’s Bouquet  _ had opened and he caught sight of the owner, he was always in the clouds. Well, whenever he wasn’t tattooing. But whenever he was working at the library or managing the parlor’s books, his mind would drift to the flower shop. It was as if his very thoughts were being pulled in that direction by some inexplicable gravitational force.

A slight smile played across his face as he locked the door, softly singing. He was on his way to the parking lot when he stopped dead in his tracks. The owner of the flower shop was looking at him. By the look on his face, he’d heard Logan singing. At the thought, Logan went bright red, and watched as the stranger mirrored his reaction. And there they were, both frozen, both blushing in the parking lot. Logan, still flushing profusely out of embarrassment, took this opportunity to admire how the man looked in the lamplight. The orange glow contrasted beautifully with the purples and blacks of his colour palette. It was like something out of a movie.

He was about to say something, but the stranger, surprisingly, spoke first. “Y-you’re good.” He said, not making eye contact, his shoulders bunching near his ears as he spoke.

“Pardon?”

“Y-you can sing well.” He said, receding even deeper into his jacket.

“Oh,” he responded, taken aback, “Thank you.”

The stranger glanced up at him and quickly returned his eyes to his hightops as he nodded briefly in response.

“So, what’s your name?” Logan prompted, eager to know the answer.

“Virgil.” He muttered, gaining the courage to look up at him.

_ Virgil.  _ That’s what his name was. Logan wondered if he’d ever read Dante’s Inferno. Outside of that, he felt his heart leap in his chest. He finally knew his name. He’d been watching and thinking about this guy for metaphorical ages and he finally knew his name. Though, whilst his insides were rejoicing, Logan kept his calm and stoic composure as he put his hand out. “Logan. A pleasure.”

Virgil cautiously took it and “shook” hands, though it felt more like Logan was just waving his limp hand up and down. “Y-yeah. Nice to meet you too.”

Logan nodded, then checked his watch. If he didn’t get in the car, he’d be off schedule, and heaven forbid that happen. But he really didn’t want to go. He wanted to keep talking with Virgil, and really get to know him. He’d been waiting for the moment for what felt like forever and it was finally happening. Logan sifted through his thoughts, trying to think of a way to continue the conversation, which resulted in an awkward silence for the both of them.

“So, what’s with the geraniums?”

“H-huh? Oh, it’s cheesy.” Virgil said sheepishly, removing a hand from his jacket pocket to run his fingers through his bangs.

As he did, Logan caught sight of his eye colour, or rather colours, completely forgetting about his geranium question. Virgil's left iris was a stunning violet, while the other was an emerald green. “Fascinating.” Logan muttered, adding one more thing to the growing list of things to admire.

“Huh?” Virgil asked, shrinking away slightly at Logan’s admiring gaze.

“Your heterochromia. Or, rather, your eye colour in general. I’ve never encountered someone with such vibrant irises as you.”

Virgil blushed at that, biting his lip shyly. “Thanks.. Most people think it’s weird.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think anything of the sort.”

He smiled slightly, his shoulders coming down from his ears as he finally began to relax. Logan smiled mentally at that.

“I-I think your eyes look pretty too..” He admitted, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I appreciate the compliment, though they’re nowhere near as unique.”

Virgil nodded, still shifting.

Logan checked his watch again and sighed. “I must go, I’m off schedule, but it was nice talking to you. I hope we can continue to talk more.” He handed him his phone. “Mind if I get your number? Then we can schedule a day to get coffee and pick this up?”

_ Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit. _ The exhaustion must be getting to him. He just asked someone out on a DATE. He didn’t know how to do that. He’d never been on a date before, much less asked someone else. He wasn’t that kind of person, but either way, he wanted to get to know Virgil more and that’s what people did, right? They went on dates to get to know each other and determine whether or not they’re compatible. Either way, Logan had asked, and there was no going back now.

Virgil stood, frozen for a second, then delicately entered his number, his long fingers awkwardly holding Logan’s uncomfortably large smartphone. “O-okay.” He finally said, handing Logan his phone along with his own.

Logan typed in his own digits and then shot Virgil a text so he’d have his number in his message history. “Alright. Well, as I said, I must be off. But I hope we can meet again, if you so please.”

Virgil nodded and with that Logan waved a small goodbye and got into his car, driving home in a daze. He’d just learned his crush’s name, gotten his number, and possibly an affirmative on a date all in the span of less than half an hour. He was reeling. He couldn’t believe that had actually happened. It all seemed to happen so quickly and it felt so unreal. But it certainly was real, and Logan couldn’t help but be ecstatic. He smiled as he drove home. He tried to continue with his evening reading routine, but he couldn’t even get through one line before his thoughts drifted back to Virgil. Eventually he gave up, finished off his tea with daydreaming instead, and then climbed into bed. As he began to fall asleep, he couldn’t help but think about how their relationship would develop, if it did at all. Maybe, if there wasn’t a reciprocation of feelings, they could be friends. Eventually, Logan fell asleep, excited for the future. That night, he dreamt of a purple haired someone inking a beautiful collection of geraniums onto his forearm.


	4. Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Virgil and Logan meet at a cafe

Virgil took a deep breath, fiddling with his hoodie strings. He’d been texting Logan for a of couple days, and today was the day they decided to meet for coffee. His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t stop a smile from worming its way onto his face.

He’d been waiting for this day for ages, and now it had finally come. He was both excited and terrified. What if he did something wrong? Screwed everything up? He shook his head, steadying his breath. Everything would be fine. It would all be okay.

_ Just roll with the punches, Virge.  _ No point in worrying over something that hadn’t happened yet. He could do this.

He checked his watch again. 14:00. Readjusting his hoodie by the shoulders, he quickly grabbed a small bouquet he’d put together earlier and began to make his way to the cafe. It was just a few blocks down, though he’d never been. He was always more of a tea person. He didn’t really mind coffee, it just wasn’t his cup of tea, for lack of a better term. He chuckled at the thought, glad for the slight distraction. He instead decided to ground himself. He focused on the warmth from the sun above, the way it lit up the petals in his small bouquet.

He didn’t want to go too extravagant, so he put together a bunch of eight flowers in total. Three white camellias and five morning glories with ferns in between. In short, it was a symbol of love and sincerity. He always preferred the language of flowers over that of words, and was excited to get to share that with Logan. It wasn’t something most were interested in, but he seemed intrigued. Most people just wanted a quick bouquet for their significant other, but never gave the meaning much thought. Logan seemed different, or at least, Virgil thought he did.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he entered the cafe to the chime of the store bell. He glanced over the quaint little store, smiling fondly. It had a warm autumnal air, even though it was only late summer. The aroma of coffee beans drifted through Virgil’s nose, and it looked like a drawing you’d see on a 10 hour lofi music playlist. It had a comfy hipster vibe and Virgil couldn’t help but relax just a bit.

He spotted Logan sitting at a booth, one arm perched on the table, fingers drumming on his cheek. His glasses were sliding down his nose and Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked utterly engrossed. With a small knock on the table, he sat, some of the nervousness coming back to him.

Logan looked up and smiled slightly, slipping his bookmark into the pages and setting it next to him. A quick glance at the small bouquet caused his face to heat slightly, which in turn, caused Virgil’s cheeks to warm.

“H-here.” He awkwardly ushered the collection of flowers to Logan. “The names of the plants are on the card at the base. You can look up the meanings if you want to.”

He took the bouquet, finger and thumb quickly grazing the card, eyes flicking over the card stock before setting it atop his book. “Thank you.”

Virgil nodded, returning to fiddling with his hoodie strings.

“I was under the impression that when on an outing, those involved partake in the food offered. Shall we?” He gestured to the front of the cafe. Virgil nodded.

They both stood, shuffling into line. Virgil’s shoulders were up to his ears as he was trying to think of something to say.

“What would you like?”

He skimmed the menu, smiling when he saw they had a chai drink. “Um, I’ll be getting a chai tea latte, and then a scone to go along.” He went to pull out his wallet when Logan put a hand on his and shook his head.

“My treat. You can pay next time.” His face turned red. “I-I mean, if there is a next time.” He quickly pulled his hand away, looking sheepish.

Nearly as red as his date, Virgil nodded, slipping his wallet back into his pocket, the phantom feeling of Logan’s fingers grazing his hand being all he could focus on.

Once the food was ordered, they returned to their booth, and Virgil decided he'd try and strike up conversation. “What were you reading?”

His eyes lit up as he passed the book over to Virgil. “It’s called  _ The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy _ , it’s the first in the series of the same name. It’s about this one man named Arthur Dent, who finds himself going on absurd adventures with an alien named Ford after an alien invasion and the destruction of Earth. It’s completely bizarre, but I do quite enjoy the humor. This is my second read-through.”

“I’ll have to put it on my list.”

Logan smiled. “I have more recommendations if you end up enjoying this one. In fact, you can borrow it. I’ve already read it, and if I need it, I can just cross the street and ask you.”

“Are you sure?” Virgil’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Of course, go ahead. It’s not a big deal. I insist.”

“Okay.” A slight smile played across his features.

* * *

What was only supposed to be an hour or so turned into a few hours. Logan was surprisingly easy to talk to, and once the conversation was going it wasn’t easy to stop. They talked about books, then movies, both elated when they found similar interests. Then from movies to actors, from actors to food, they nearly touched everything under the sun. Before they knew it it was sunset and time to part ways.

“Have I charmed you enough to do this again?” Logan asked, flushing slightly.

Virgil nodded, mirroring Logan’s flush.

With a smile and a nod, they each parted ways, Logan with Virgil's flowers, and Virgil with Logan’s book. As he walked back home, Virgil hugged the book to his chest. He was excited to read it, Logan had definitely talked up the writing, though at one point Virgil had to stop him from delving into spoiler territory. He exhaled slightly at that. He really had a great time, and was eager to see him again, though he’d much prefer in person than through his shop window.

He arrived home and settled into his arm chair, turning on the desk lamp and opening up to page one. His fingers brushed something odd, and he realized that Logan had left his bookmark in. Virgil flipped to the page and couldn’t help but smile. Laminated in between two clear plastic sheets was a blue geranium. He ran his finger along the bumps of the stem and petals, wondering what the flower meant to Logan. He put it back, just in case his friend wanted to pick up where he left off and flipped back to the beginning.


End file.
